


Cold Hands on His Tiddies

by PhilistiniPhagottini



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Crack, Humor, Nipple Play, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Popsicles, Temperature Play, moobies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:40:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28009356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhilistiniPhagottini/pseuds/PhilistiniPhagottini
Summary: Dante, Son of Sparda, Legendary Devil Hunter, and sad little man, brought to his miserable demise by a paddle pop stick, an imbecile, tiddie twists and a 90’s banger.
Relationships: Dante (Devil May Cry)/Reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 44





	Cold Hands on His Tiddies

**Author's Note:**

> This is pure and unbridled chaos. My best friend was watching me write this and what spawned was this blight upon the world. So big shout out to my bestie. They also came up with the summary for this fic. Hope this gives people a few laughs. I left the reader gender neutral so we can all enjoy some Dante tiddies. Enjoy~

It all started when you asked Dante a simple question.

"Do you want a popsicle?"

The heat this Summer was foul and it felt like you were boiling alive in your own skin. You had stocked the freezer with various treats to cool down with and on a hot, hot Summer's evening, you wanted a popsicle.

Dante peered at you over the top of his magazine, his eyes flicking to the ceiling for a moment as he pondered the question. He leaned back further in his chair, the leather creaking as he shifted and kicked his boots onto the desk. He hummed before he turned his attention back to the article he had been reading a moment prior.

"Nah. Think I'll pass" he replied.

You shrugged as you walked by his desk, tucking your hands under his feet and lifting them off the table. Dante's eyes never left his magazine as he was spun in his chair, his feet hitting the ground with a dull thump. 

"Your funeral" you muttered as you brushed past him.

How he survived in this heat with all that leather, you would never know. You figured demon anatomy was just weird and left it at that. Your brain was too fried at the moment to think of much more. You ventured back into the office with your favourite colour popsicle in your hand and promptly collapsed onto the leather couch. The sugary treat was already melting at an alarming rate and you had barely even licked it yet. Having nothing better to do you fished your phone out of your pocket and started scrolling through your social media as you enjoyed your cold treat. 

Everything was very quiet around the Devil May Cry. Not even the jukebox had been turned on to create an ambiance. No, you just had the loud cry of the cicadas and the occasional hum of a motor as a car drove by. The only other sound to fill the silence was your loud and obnoxious sucking on your melting popsicle. 

Dante did his best to ignore it, but that task was proving to become increasingly harder by the minute. He wasn't sure if you were aware how loud and suggestive the sucking was. You were too focused on your phone screen. Dante knew he should not stare so openly but he did and the sight almost broke him. Watching you lick the melted juices as it dripped onto your fingers and palm made him audibly gulp. You wrap your lips around the popsicle again and continue to suck until your whole mouth turned a different colour from the sticky sweet snack. It was torture.

Once you finished your treat you placed your phone to the side and stood once more. Dante raised his magazine over his eyes, burying himself to hide the fact that he had been staring for the past...however long it took you to eat all of the popsicle. It could have been an eternity as far as he was concerned. You deposited the popsicle stick in the bin beside the desk once you had licked it clean and couldn't taste any more sugar. You slowly turned to Dante, who was still pretending he was reading and a smile slowly crawled its way over your lips. You weren't stupid, you knew Dante had been watching, or at least had a peek.

You slammed your hands down on the desk, the loud noise immediately drawing the Devil Hunter's attention and making him look up. You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue, letting Dante get a good view as you wriggled your eyebrows suggestively. He slowly closed the magazine and placed it on the desk in front of him. He nodded to himself, seemingly making his mind up about something. 

"My room it is" he decided. 

You didn't protest as Dante stood from the chair, walked around the desk and hoisted you over a sturdy shoulder. You cackled as your world was flipped and you got a nice view of Dante's arse as he started walking towards his room. Before he reached the stairs, you spoke up.

"Oi chuck us another paddle pop will ya."

Dante placed a hand on your backside as he spun on his heel and walked towards the kitchen. 

"Sure thing, babe."

With another popsicle in your hands Dante promptly takes you to his bedroom. You open the treat and start eating even as you undress yourself. You were fine, you simply just put in your mouth when you had to use both hands. Upon seeing the display Dante, of course, just had to comment on it.

"That’s almost all the way in" he whistled as he shrugged his shirt off. "Don’t you have a gag reflex?"

You peel your shirt off and throw it to a random corner of the room. There is a loud pop as you take the popsicle out of your mouth to respond.

"Haven’t had one since we started dating."

Dante laughed loudly at your quip. He has no further remarks as you proceed to take off your pants. You juggle your popsicle between your hands, letting the cold treat numb your fingers as you push every last article of clothing off your body and onto the floor. When you and Dante are both undressed, you gesture to the bed.

"Dante, if you would so kindly" you said.

Dante grinned widely, stealing a quick kiss from you before he crawled onto the bed, resting on his hands and knees.

"Like this?" he asked, as he rolled his hips.

You playfully rolled your eyes before you grip the flesh of his backside, like a mother cat grabbing a kitten by its scruff. You grabbed his ass scruff.

"On your back, you cheeky devil."

Dante complied and rolled over, giving you a nice view of his toned, chiselled body, glistening with sweat from the warm night. You pinched your teeth as your eyes roved over his form, your stare lingering a little bit too long between the apex of his thighs. What were you going to do again? You were reminded of your plan when your cold hands brushed your sides as you moved towards the bed.

You climbed onto the bed, shuffling over to Dante before you straddled him. He rested his large hands on your hips and you could feel his half-hardened cock brush against your backside as you nestled in his lap. A pleasant shiver ran up your spine as you gently rocked your hips back, just to draw a pleased purr from the demon’s chest. His thumbs brushed against your hip bones as Dante stared up at you with half lidded eyes.

"What are you going to do with those hands?" Dante inquired.

A wicked grin split your lips. Oh, you were going to show him exactly what you were going to do. His body was like a piece of roast meat at the supermarket and you could not resist the urge to wallop him. There was a satisfying sound that reached your ears when you slapped one of Dante’s pectoral muscles. Hard. You weren’t sure what sound was better. The sound of his skin being slapped or the delicious moan that clawed out of his throat. Oh, you were going to have so much fun playing with these tiddies.

You place your popsicle in your mouth before using both free hands to grab an ample amount of his man bosom. Neither of your hands can contain the sheer volume of skin as you squeeze and rub your cold fingers over his warm skin. Dante’s breathing becomes heavy, ice blue eyes clouded with lust as he stared up at you.

"Touch me harder" he groaned under his breath.

You smile. You are more than happy to oblige as you grope and paw at his chest. You swirl your cold treat in your mouth as Dante moans and whimpers underneath you, his cock completely hard and rubbing against your backside. You feel a pang of arousal between your thighs as you watch Dante writhe beneath you, completely at the mercy of your touch. 

The popsicle that was still in your mouth started to melt, your tongue and teeth numb from the cold as the melted sweet started to dribble from your lips. It travelled down your chin, the drops gathering and slowly dripping between the valley of Dante’s supple man bosom. You take the popsicle out of your mouth once more as you lick your lips. Dante almost screams as your cold tongue licks at the juices on his skin, leaving behind a wet trail. You suckle at his skin, cold lips tickling his warm skin and making his stomach coil and twist from the contrast.

Your cold hand returns to groping at his chest, fingers tugging and teasing his nipples into stiff peaks. He whines, hips bucking and almost jostling you from your seat as he grinds his leaking cock against your backside. 

"Shit, babe, you’re gonna make me cum if you keep this up" he panted. 

"That’s the point" you mumbled against his chest.

The neglected popsicle in your other hand had almost melted away into nothing, sticky sweetness coating your hand and warm against your heated skin. You stick the rest of the cold treat in your mouth, biting down on the stick as you finish off the popsicle. You placed the hand that was covered in melted syrup against Dante’s lips, painting his mouth and turning his lips a different colour. You push against his lips and he immediately opens his mouth, tongue curling around your fingers as he sucked. 

His moans are muffled as he continued to buck his hips against you, desperately trying to seek more friction as his body begged for some type of relief. You spit the stick from your popsicle out of your mouth before you descend on him, sucking a pert nipple into your mouth. Dante groaned, teeth tugging at the fingers in his mouth as he threatened to bite down. You press your fingers down on his tongue, drool gathering at the corner of his lips as you continue to lick and suckle his nipple.

You hear him trying to warn you before he comes, but you already knew he was close to finishing by the way his stomach muscles tensed underneath you and you could feel his hips shaking as he cried out.

A loud growl bubbled up his throat as he climaxed, thick ropes of cum painting your backside and thighs as he writhed beneath you with white hot ecstasy filling his veins. You pulled your fingers out of his mouth, the digits covered with his saliva. You didn’t think twice as you wiped them on the bed sheets. You’d have to change them anyway. The heat had made you both sweat a disgusting amount and there was no way you were going to be able to sleep until you changed them. Plus, a cold shower was highly appealing to you at the moment. 

You sat back in Dante’s lap, a satisfied smile crawling across your lips at the flustered mess you had made of the Legendary Devil Hunter. 

"So, you like cold hands on your moobies" you mused. 

Dante huffed loudly, blowing a strand of his white hair out of his eyes. He opened his mouth for clarification on the term but his jaw snapped shut when he realised you had just combined man and boobies together. 

"You learn something new every day" he quipped. 

You hummed as you tapped your chin in thought. You briefly wondered what other things Dante might like on his tits. You started to slap Dante’s tits once more as you pondered some ideas. He jolts from the unexpected slap but doesn’t protest as you continue to drum your hands against his chest, playing his body like a muscular bongo. He listens for a moment and he thinks he recognises the tune of ‘Sandstorm’ by Darude. He watched on as you beat on his pillowy man-bosom, all the while never missing a beat as you start humming off-key instrumentals. For the most part, Dante tunes you out and lets you have your fun. He was pleasantly warm and satisfied and he really didn't care what you did at the moment. 

Dante only returns, by force, from the nether realm when he receives a sharp flick between the eyes from the paddle pop stick you had retrieved during his dissociative episode.

"Oi, where are me back up vocals?"

When he failed to respond, mind probably still buffering like a shitty YouTube video on dial up speed, you once again bend the paddle pop stick back, as far as it will go without breaking, before letting go for another high pitch snap of stick on skin action. He smiled before he began his best rendition of synthesised instruments, just in time for the apex of the legendary tune. It was halfway through your impromptu jamming session that an idea sparked in your brain. 

"Next time, we’re trying some BBQ sauce."

Dante groaned loudly, the sound almost turning into a whimper. You were going to be the death of him.


End file.
